


The Crooked Tree

by whyntir



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Are Old People New When They Change?, At Least I'm Trying, Awkward Conversations, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Strangeness, Character Deconstruction, Character Development, Character Study, Creative Liberties, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotionally Repressed, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, High School, In Character, Inner Demons, Inspired by Music, Izaya Doesn't Know How to People, Izaya never met Shinra, Japanese Character(s), Jealousy, Kadota knows more than he lets on, Kindred Spirits, Light Angst, M/M, Mairu and Kururi are adorable, Male Friendship, Mild Language, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Misleading Tags, Mother-Son Relationship, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Painful Love, Raijin Days, Rating May Change, Real World References, Realistic, Romantic Friendship, Sad and Happy, Second Chances, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, Self-Discovery, Series Spoilers, Shinra Disappears, Shizuo Doesn't Want to People, Sibling Bonding, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, So does Celty, Some Humor, Tags May Change, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel Fix-It, Timeline overlap, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, confused feelings, very slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10095944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyntir/pseuds/whyntir
Summary: Trees, like people, are made to grow along a certain path, generally up if one is being literal, but for the latter, morally upright. Izaya had always been a crooked tree, as long as Shizuo had known him. An ugly, twisted willow tree that tarnished everything with its mere presence. That was just how he was, but what if that seed was never planted. If that was possible, who planted it there in the first place?





	1. Too Late Now

_"Celty. We both know this is pointless."_

* * *

Fire, smoke. The room practically exploded into flames, sucking the air straight from his lungs like a punch in the gut. He doubled over and fell to his knees, the heat from the flames scorching from the inside out. Sweat dampened the bleached hair, rolling down his temple and jaw, evaporating before they ever touched the ground. It was so hot, his organs were ignited.

 _'This is really it, huh?'_ a familiar voice in his head mused. His jaw clenched so tight, he wouldn't have been surprised if his teeth chipped. It laughed. _'What's got you so worked up?'_

Rage boiled over, his first instinct was to pull back his arm, hand clenched so tight that the short , rounded nails bit into his skin like knives. It just took one punch. One punch and the concrete cracked and crumbled, caving into the floor below. The air was instantly clear. The monster growled.

_'I didn't change the rules.'_

Vorona.

You tried to kill Vorona.

_'Isn't that your fault?_

The monster looked up, could see him sitting there. Just sitting, watching, that fucking smirk plastered on his face, illuminated by the inferno he started. The growl became a snarl.

_'What made you think you could be human?'_

It roared.

* * *

"Celty. Let's go home."

A cold gust blew through them, pulling her hair, his coat. Everything was so quiet up here. Alone. In the sky. She turned from him, looking over the far-away city. Her eyes could see further than before. It was like she was among them, in the fight. Smelling the violence. Ikebukuro was on fire, tasting like iron and salt. In the middle of everything, she could see him. Once upon a time she would have felt the bruises on his face and skin were well deserved. A tinge of red pooled at the corner of his mouth, but still he smiled. All of this was his doing.

Or rather, she onced believed that.

* * *

_Shinra let his head be cradled by the pillow she had just fluffed for him, sighing in blissful comfort. "Izaya promised to make him pay for it. That was the first time I had seen that look in his eyes. Despite the fear in the foreground."_

* * *

If she had never influenced Shinra to make friends, he never would have sought out Orihara Izaya. If he had never tried so hard to make her happy, he never would have taken the knife for him. It never would have happened. The club, the gambling, none of it. If only she hadn't existed, his game never would have began and Anri, Mikado, Shizuo… her friends.

"You're right. By leaving now… it won't change anything."

**_'I don't want him to forget me.'_ **

"Celty." He sounded so hopeful, a small smile graced the head in her arms.

"So selfish."

The shadows hanging over the city grew, an ominous black hole in the sky. The confusion on his face was endearingly bitter sweet. She chose to remember the way his lips parted as he craned his head up, forming a small 'o'. How he stared with wide-eyed childish intrigue. "Good bye, Shinra."

* * *

Something changed. He couldn't explain it, but there was a paradigm shift that threw everything off. The growing darkness drew his gaze upward, and it was the moment he couldn't take back. The beast charged, arm drawn back. He had no time to do anything but brace and hope, kicking backwards to possibly reduce impact. It sounded like a fireplace, the snapping of twigs in the heat of the flames, popping from the pressure. He felt heat, not pain. He could remember reading to Mairu and Kururi in front of the hearth on winter break. He remembered the smell if the wood, the coolness of the paper, the creak of the book's spine as he turned a page, rarely used anymore since his parents were always away. The twins smelt of their strawberries and cream shampoo. Mairu yawned. Kururi leaned her head against his knee.

Was this shock?

Everything rushed back. The city, the head, the war, the monster.

His back slammed into the asphalt, a crater forming around his broken body. The adrenaline kept the pain from registering too strong, but he could tell his arms were useless. Hanging limply by his side, the forearms shattered, shoulders dislocated. His ribcage and spine took most of the trauma from the landing. They had to be bruised at least. His brain slowly caught back up, still seeing the long shadows cast from the fireplace.

 _'Move!'_ It screamed at him. Blinking slowly, digging in, he pushed up with all his might. There were humans here, his humans. Watching him, their god. If this was where he'd die, he would do it in such a way that inspired awe. His left eye twitched in a wince, something hot and thick bubbling up his throat, suffocating him. He spat out the clot, blood staining chapped lips as he tasted iron. It was becoming so hard to breathe.

The monster stalked up to him, preparing the killing blow, unaware that if he were to just sit and wait, the same results would be made. This was the end. He was dying. He couldn't help but smile, goading animal in front of him to strike and strike quickly.

This was it.

His vision grew hazy, but from bloodloss or slowly drowning in his own blood, he couldn't tell.

This was okay.

 _"It is you."_ A voice seemingly whispered directly into his ear, carried on the breeze. Shivers ran down his spine as the short hairs along his neck stood on end. He could feel something behind him, but no one else seemed to be able to even see it. _"The true victim of my existence. You pulled everyone with you."_

Darkness covered the world, not because of the shadow overhead engulfing them, but because he didn't have it in him anymore. His body just couldn't take any more.

* * *

Shizuo finally realized that something was not right. He blamed being surrounded by strangeness all his life for why he hadn't noticed sooner. Half the city, no, a third? Maybe more? Bit by bit, his city, the whole world, all of it; vanished.

Shizuo fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. What am I doing? I've had this idea around for a long time and just never felt worthy of posting it. I love Durarara. I could talk forever about theories and character dissections and analyses on Izaya and Shizuo. One thing that always got to me was after the last novel's release, Celty spends all this extra time with Mikado because, somehow, she figures she ruined his life the most. But seriously, Mikado never would have gotten roped into this if not for Izaya, and if it wasn't for Izaya befriending Shinra in middle school, he never would have become... well, this. Meeting Shinra warped him, or at least that was how I interpreted the scene after Shinra was stabbed. Before that, Izaya was a rather normal kid, especially for his upbringing. I just really wanted to play with that. And screw the fact that Dullahans can't control time. I've seen weirder, so if you could just go along with it... I'd appreciate it.


	2. Nightmares

Jolting upright, a silent scream dying on his lips but echoing in his head. Everything ache, every muscle throbbing as he released a shuddering breath. His blankets clung to him too tight, damp in a cold sweat. Another nightmare. A grey haze filtered in from the window, the sun having not yet risen to properly call it morning, but too late to try and go back to sleep. His arm felt heavy as he dragged it across his brow, fingers still trembling. He had been in plenty of fights in his fourteen years, heard plenty of bones break and soft bodies give under his inhuman strength. Hell, he'd heard enough of his own body protesting against him, weeks to months in lonely, cold hospitals with only his brother to give him company. Never had it felt like _that_.

 _Satisfying_.

His stomach flipped. One hand flying to his mouth as he struggled to untangle himself from the blankets. He fell off the mattress, landing hard on the wood floor as the sheets tangled around his ankles. He just managed to kick them off, scrambling to the bathroom just as the bile scorched his throat.

 _Like breaking the wings of a bird_.

He wretched, green-yellow bubbles of acid floating on the surface of the toilet. He hadn't even bothered turning on the light as he rested his head against the cold porcelain. His breath just beginning to even as the light switched snapped on, his little brother passively taking in the scene. His strong big brother crumpled on the ground, pale as a ghost from a stupid dream.

"Brother."

Shizuo averted his eyes to stare at the grout between the tiles. "Bad dream." He left it at that, just another nightmare. Even those dreams that weren't particularly traumatizing were nightmares. They always left him feeling shitty. Sometimes he was so angry that his temper flared at the slightest aggravation, seething the day away over some injustice he couldn't remember. Sometimes he felt lonely, missing someone or something. Most of the time they left him feeling like a total failure. This was the first time he had legitimately felt ill from one of them, though even as he laid there, he was beginning to lose the details. The faces of the dream. The names disappeared from his memory. All he remembered was the thrill of hurting the man in black.

Figuring he wouldn't get any more, Kasuka blinked. "You can shower first."

As he heard the door close, he found himself managing a weak smile. Staggering to his feet and flushing the toilet, woozy from vomiting on an empty stomach, Shizuo peeled the black tank top from his back. It slapped against the hard floor, half-dry, before his grey sweatpants followed. He instantly felt like he could breathe better, the fabric restricting him. He let the shower run, giving it time to warm up while he rinsed out his mouth with cold water, removing the last traces of sickness. A part of him wondered if he should tell his mother he was unwell and stay home, but he knew it would just disappoint her more. Instead he stripped out of his boxers and climbed into the shower.

The hot water had already started fogging the room with clouds of steam, nipping at his clammy skin and drawing colour back into him. The sweat and grime from the day before washing off and leaving him feeling somewhat normal again. If one could consider his life up to this point normal. He didn't like thinking about those things, however. Instead he distracted himself, ducking directly under the spray and drenching his blond hair. He remembered the first time he bleached it after Tom recommended it. How _right_ it felt, not just as a means as warding off would-be idiots, but just how he felt like he was finally looking at himself for the first time. Of course he had over processed it the first time, the strands brittle and crunchy under his fingers. Now it actually felt like hair.

The smell of strawberries and cream relaxed him further as he lathered the shampoo into his scalp. The sweet scent and familiarity of the motion drawing his tired eyes closed. He'd sleep in homeroom. No, wait, that probably wasn't a good first impression. Still, he was so tired. He felt the suds trail down his body as he rinsed. He had to get out soon before there wasn't any more hot water for Kasuka, though maybe this time he would forgive him for it.

* * *

He didn't particularly like crowds, not that he hated them all that much either. They had purpose. Still, he preferred to observe them from afar, being stuck in the middle of them, it was hard to see much of anything, the stimuli was too cluttered and disjointed. However he could actually _hear_ , and being caught in the middle, it made it easier to hide. People didn't like being watched, it was something he had learnt very early on, but that only made the hobby all the more thrilling. The true art was knowing when to rush through a crowd and when to take his time.

"How was wint-?"

"My mom practically cried on my way out."

"Hey! How ar-."

"I missed you!"

"I'm in class 1B!"

"You never called-."

"The cherry blossoms ar-."

"I hear there is a pervert teacher-."

"I heard Shizu-chan will be back."

" _Oh god._ "

His ears pricked at the distress in the last voice, his steps slowing to keep pace.

"Don't talk like that."

"-Never get a moment."

" _-Crazy monster_."

' _Sounds like an interesting girl,'_ he quirked his brow, _'Shizu-chan.'_

He lost the voices as they neared the school steps and his felt deprived, too many people falling silent. There was no point to continue loitering, so he pushed ahead, weaving between bodies expertly, catching as many faces as he could in the process. Most he already knew from middle school, but those he didn't he would put names to eventually. He still had time, though, he made his way to the upper floors as the other students loitered.

Footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, the classroom doors ajar and waiting for the flood of students to find their place, the instructors still in the teacher's room, making last minute preparations and bracing for the first term. Everything smelt new, the linoleum floor so clean it could be a mirror under the flourescent lights. It made his skin crawl; the sooner it was crammed with bodies and lived-in, the better. He skipped a step, quickening his pace up the last set of stairs to the hall with the large windows that overlooked the courtyard.

This was where he appreciated crowds, standing over them, watching from on high.

It was almost funny how well he embodied his name.

He couldn't make out faces from here, but colours were particularly vibrant from the third floor. Far enough that anyone would have trouble recognizing him, but close enough that general details like the colour and styles of hair and backpacks. Girls with their hair done in their best semi-casual, uniforms perfectly laundered, bags prepped for the term before they deteriorated and it all became routine. It would take about a week for the pieces to fall into place, the dust clouds of pretense to settle and then he could really savour his observations.

' _Shizu-chan.'_

He found his eyes drawn to a shock of bright yellow hair, the boy it belonged to being particularly lanky and towering over most of his peers. He looked plain, his blue uniform bedraggled as he held the one strap of his bag that slung over his shoulder. Izaya felt himself relaxing as he observed this human. No pretense, it was like breathing fresh air after walking past one of those perfume shops. Not that the masks weren't interesting in their own right, just something _different_ gave him an appreciation of the perspective. Perhaps the first week wasn't going to be all that boring after all.

He still wanted to see that Shizu-chan, though.

* * *

_There is someone on the third floor._

He kept walking, wading through the flood of bodies.

_They are watching you._

His brow twitched in irritation, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag.

_They are looking down on you._

His head snapped up in time to see a dark figure move away from the third story window, anger boiling in his stomach, twisting his insides. He didn't even question how he knew they were there, all he knew was that they would be a problem. He ground his teeth together, trudging through the doors of the academy.

* * *

_Boring_

* * *

**Lonely**

* * *

The lunch chime was the best thing he had heard all day. He only packed milk bread and a carton of milk, what use would planning a bento be if he wouldn't want to bother later? There wasn't anyone in his class he recognized, he found himself missing his middle school Senpai. Again he was left with this feeling that something was missing. Grabbing his bag, he slipped out of the classroom, not at all interested in the talks of student presidents and clubs. He had no intention of getting involved with any of those, the further people stayed away, the safer everyone was.

And yet he still felt so _lonely_.

* * *

Izaya watched the others, pretending to idly read a book. The cliques had already formed, previous classmates greeted him, some holding small talk before settling back to where they belonged. It wasn't too surprising, he knew his ability to disappear would be hindered as he matured, the generic features of childhood slimming down to this genetic ideal. In short, he knew he was attractive and others were taking notice. He just kept his responses short and vague until they lost interest and he could settle in to eavesdrop.

It was _boring_.

Trips out of the city. Who is dating whom, and who broke up? Was it messy? Who went abroad? Who moved away? Who moved _back_? After so many variations of the same conversation, it dragged. There was talk about the class president and subsequent council, but he had never wanted to bother with those things. Clubs were too inhibiting, too small a sample size to enjoy people watching, especially over the course of months. He'd rather just go to the city, a park or the shopping district.

Closing the book, he left like a shadow, there would be something more interesting outside perhaps, but instead of going down, he went up towards the roof. He was entirely prepared to pick the lock, but the door was already open, the lock broken from the mechanism entirely. There was no point to even try the knob, just a tap swung it wide open. The spring air was chillier up here, stronger too, pulling at the bolero jacket he wore and right through the red undershirt.

* * *

The wind caught the door and slammed it open. Shizuo cringed at the loud noise, hoping no one cold hear it. He turned to see if it was even worth closing.

* * *

" _I thought you and I could have some fun."_

_Black bikes. Red and white lights blinding him. A boy with glasses. Bartending uniform. Red eyes. The slasher._

" _And why do I deserve to have my ass kicked?"_

_Dragon zombies. Akane. Celty. Shinra. Those kids. Vorona._

_The beams were falling towards him, the small figure on the roof could only be one person. What were the odds they would kill him? It was quite a height, but he had survived worse-._

_She shoved him out of the way._

_They fall on her._

_He stands in shock._

_The metal pole may as well have been a spear._

_Yellow scarves. Blue Squares._

_Dollars._

**_"See? It's fun, isn't it?"_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just in case you didn't know, Izaya never came up with the name Shizu-Chan. He overheard a girl from Shizuo's old elementary call him that and actually thought he was a girl.


	3. Ghosts

"Damnit."

* * *

_He lunged at the teenager, not holding back, only to have the small body disappear at the last second. His fist collided into the metal door, muscles rippling with the impact and straining under the force. He whipped around, top lip pulled back in a snarl as he tried to find that person, no, thing. Insect._

_Flea!_

* * *

He brushed his fingers over the scraped skin on his knuckles, the sting a preferable distraction to what was going on in his head.

* * *

_Knife!_

_He reflexively leaned back to dodge the counterattack, nearly falling down the stairs by the reaction._

* * *

 

Shizuo's hand fell over his chest, teeth grinding together. It ached dully, his whole body still wound tight, muscles sore from all the pent up tension. He had left his bag behind, but fuck it. He could be without it until someone found it. He could deal with the scoldings in the teachers' lounge. That was fine. His hand gripped the fabric of his shirt tighter.

There had been no knife.

* * *

What made humans human? It was a typical philosophy question, rather elementary. Some people turned to science, the biology of bipedal vertebrates who mastered the concept of language and community with the use of tools and a superior intellect. Some turned to the psychological or spiritual; their free will, their ability to reason and have a sense of self. These were all very quaint and easily packaged definitions, but they never felt satisfactory. And that was what he settled on. The ability of humans to be everything and nothing. To be completely predictable and still take him by surprise. To be so self-conscious that they plagued themselves like a cancer, but so unaware that they never realized what power they held over others. How they could be so weak and yet destroy worlds. How they could be so smart and yet not understand anything.

He had never seen anything like that, a normal human would have broken, he didn't even really understand why. Why was he suddenly attacked just for opening the door? He tried to find a reason, perhaps he startled the other boy? But that felt weak. Then again, he didn't know anything about this student, he looked like a troubled student, probably used to fights, with his strength, people would be attracted to the challenge.

"Extraordinary…"

Izaya's pant-leg brushed against the rough fabric of the bag. It was the best excuse he could offer to seeking out Heiwajima Shizuo, and even a possible peace offering. After all, this way he wouldn't get in trouble, so perhaps they could actually say something to each other this time.

* * *

It was like a bug crawling under his skin, just irritating every fibre of his being. He would occasionally find himself turning to the chair across the classroom, but the person sitting there wasn't who he was looking for. Who was he looking for? From the peripheral of his vision, a short boy with brown hair, thick glasses on his face. By the time school ended, he was frustrated. He would have punched the phantom boy if he could. The student president that had been elected that morning was beginning discussions of creating the council and Shizuo took that as his cue to leave.

_"Ah, wait up Shizuo-kun!"_

_'Go away.'_

The halls were sparse, students heading home early, he preferred it to the morning traffic. The quiet was nice.

_"Haha, you look ready to fall asleep."_

_'Shut up.'_

His hands balled into fists in his pockets, glaring at the shiny linoleum floor, the ghost walking beside him as if he belonged there, but he wasn't there at all. But he felt . . . happy? Something. The distorted figure still wasn't clear enough for him to have a real identity, but he felt like he knew them, or at least should.

_"Ah! Shi-."_

"Heiwajima-kun?"

Shizuo's head snapped up, the tiny black-clad figure just over two arms-lengths away sending the same irrational anger coursing through him. But maybe not? It felt different, less angry and more… suspicious.

"What?" he grunted, half snarled, body tense for an attack without any real reason. He felt prepared to run, to chase.

Instead he had his backpack offered out to him. "You left this during lunch. I figured it was my fault for startling you in the first place."

_'What?'_

"Ah, I had to look inside for an ID. Sorry."

_'I can't trus-.'_

The ravenette quirked a brow, his arm must be getting tired holding the bag like that. "Are-."

"Thanks." Shizuo finally managed, taking the bag, finally. He found himself going through the bag suspiciously. Everything seemed to be there, though he glanced up to see what the other First-year thought of his actions. Instead he watched passively, his face a pleasant smile that gave nothing away.

Shizuo finally had a real good look at him, he was small with a pretty face and russet eyes that seemed to stare through him in the most annoying fashion. And yet he felt like he knew this face as much as he knew the boy that didn't exist.

"Everything there?"

". . . Yeah."

"That's good," he nodded, leaning back on his heels like a child, glancing up to the clock on the far wall. "Heiwajima-kun, you're very strong."

Shizuo winced at the memory of the roof, his hand still raw and bruised from the metal door. To his left shoulder, the man in black materialized just out of reach.

_"Monster."_

"If you want to fight, you'll lose."

Those piercing eyes blinked owlishly, surprised by the response. He apparently was prepared to have a conversation with a wall and seeing him off balance made the blond feel good.

The dark haired teen chuckled to himself, "I wouldn't expect to win. If I ever want to know what comes after death, I will be sure to challenge you then, Heiwajima-kun."

"I don't like fighting. So don't do that."

He laughed.

"You really are interesting, Heiwajima-kun."

* * *

_"I knew you two could get along!"_

"Shut up." He rubbed his temple, head propped up as he glared at the kitchen table. Ever since school ended, that irritating voice wouldn't leave him alone. And the more it gushed over him talking to that weird guy, the more irritated he became. The voice kept pacing behind him, he could almost hear the hurried scamper of short legs practically dancing in elation, and it really started pissing him off.

_"And he still found you after you tried bashing his skull in!"_

Why had he even done that? He never got so angry just by looking at someone, and it couldn't have just been that because… ever since this stupid ghost wouldn't leave him alone! And sure, the guy was weird, it was the only way to really describe him. He gave off this feeling that he wasn't really there, even when looking directly at him, and it made Shizuo's skin crawl. It was like he wasn't even real, which unsettled Shizuo, made him suspicious and anxious. "You can't trust people who hide themselves."

_"Ah, that is true, but he doesn't really do too good a job at that."_

"And what the fuck do you know!?"

Shizuo whipped around, coming face-to-face with his stoic little brother. Heat slowly filtered up his face as they stared each other down. "Brother?"

"... I… sorry."

"How was school?"

"... fine."

"Did something happen?"

"I… met someone. Sorta."

"That is good."

Shizuo chuckled to himself, dropping his head to the table, hating the fact that his little brother was acting like he should be. He really was a failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the hardest part was having Shizuo and Izaya have a calm conversation without fighting while maintaining their character integrity. It isn't easy at all. They are both very similar and very different and trying to find that equilibrium is challenging. Neither really enjoy talking about themselves, and Izaya is already out of his default element by instigating a connection to Shizuo. As seen in Vol. 9 of the light novels, he is very much the observer before Shinra got involved, and him reaching out to make the Biology club after denying Shinra was his first time instigating a connection.
> 
> Shinra could see through Izaya, however. Shizuo can't. He can feel that Izaya is hiding something, though; which is also why I think Shizuo immediately hated him in the main series.


	4. Of Monsters and Men

_It is absurd to divide people by ‘good’ or ‘bad’. People are either charming or tedious._

* * *

 

Izaya finished chasing the bunny rabbit around the tree and down the hole, pulling the two ears into a bow before sitting back on his heels, “Okay, you do the other one.”

The little girl stared at her untied shoe, contemplating. “Niisan… Bunny… (I like it when Brother does the bunny.)”

Sighing, the ravenette folded his arms over his chest, “You need to do it yourself, Kururi. I’m not doing the other one.”

“Iza-nii wouldn’t let Kuru-nee go to school without her shoes tied!”

“You guys take them off when you get there anyway.”

“But what if Kuru-nee trips and falls and breaks her head open and then mom and dad would ask why Kuru-nee is dead-.”

“This is getting ridiculous.”

“And then Iza-nii would be in big, big, big trouble because he didn’t tie her bunnies!”

There was little more he could do than just stare at the younger twin, her massive grin a stark contrast to the morbid tale woven by her seven-year-old imagination. Somewhere he figured this was his fault, but at the same time, he never recalled being quite so dramatic. He turned back to the less excitable one, “Kururi, the worst thing in this life is to be dependent on anyone for something you can do yourself.”

Her big brown eyes regarded him sullenly before she knelt down and began fiddling with the strings. Izaya relaxed, leaving her to it to get himself ready for school. The morning was routine, though he was finding himself trying to grow the twins up, making new rules that they were not eager to obey. He woke up earlier than usual to shower only to have Kururi knock on the door. Wrestling Mairu out of bed before seven to give them enough time to bathe themselves and get dressed. He still cooked breakfast and ironed their uniforms, setting them out for the girls, but he knew even that would be up to them eventually.

The additional fighting had eaten into his own preparation time, however. And the mornings that used to be rather pleasant only served to give him a headache. He grabbed his cold piece of toast, not bothering to retrieve the jam that he had already put away after the girls had eaten. His tea was still warm and he didn’t feel like wasting it, pouring the liquid into a thermos to drink on the walk to school.

He slung his school bag over his shoulder and returned to the girls at the front door, Kururi beaming proudly as she showed off the uneven knot she made, but it would do. He pat her head with his free hand, holding the slice of bread between his lips, unable to voice an approval before opening the door for the twins who spilled out on the front porch, Mairu squealing loudly as she jumped down the steps into the rain and straight for a  puddle, Kururi giggling as dirty droplets splattered on her.

Izaya handed an umbrella to the less destructive of the two, taking one for himself. “Remind me what the point of bathing you was.”

“Iza-nii doesn’t take baths with us anymore, so you can’t say that!”

“You’re too old to be bathing with your big brother.”

“It’s because Iza-nii doesn’t want people to think he’s a pervert!”

His face heated up as he contemplated whether or not it would be too petty to shove a seven-year-old into oncoming traffic.

“Niisan… (You shouldn’t make scary faces, Brother.)”

Izaya sighed, putting the bitten toast back in his mouth to open his umbrella. Kururi followed suit while mairu pranced on ahead through the light drizzle, so her raincoat would suffice.

Kururi walked obediently beside him, holding onto the hem of his jacket. The prongs of her umbrella occasionally poked into his side, it also seemed unnecessary since his umbrella could shield both of them, but he didn’t complain. Even before the ‘Switch off’, as he called it, she had always been the clinging one, needing more reassurance than Mairu. Hell, he couldn’t remember if he ever needed to reassure Mairu to do anything, other than wake up on time for school.

He finished the dry toast by the time they reached the corner where they split up, sipping his luke-warm tea from the thermos. Kururi and Mairu held hands and crossed the street toward the elementary school. Kururi stopped to wave, Mairu pulled down her eyelid and stuck her tongue out like the brat she was, before they both continued to the front gates. He waited until they had crossed the threshold of the academy grounds before he continued on his way to the high school.

Izaya hadn’t spoken to Heiwajima Shizuo since the first day of school, instead they just existed around each other, the ravenette watching when he could and the blonde just… well, being there. He didn’t do much, it was like watching a lion hunt. The actual act was astounding, but in between was a bunch of lazing around and, much to Izaya’s dismay, boring. Shizuo didn’t sit with anyone, rather he mirrored Izaya’s uneventful life a little too well, and he wasn’t in the business of self-assessment.

“You’re early,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Russet eyes met cool chocolate.

“Kadota-san,” he greeted the other teen, “I always arrive around this time.”

The brunette with the slicked back hair regarded him with the same amount of neutrality, “I know, you don’t normally look so distracted though.”

A strange twinge pricked Izaya’s spine, watching the other boy as he fell in step beside him, far enough that their umbrellas didn’t get tangled. “Oh? How do I normally look?”

Kadota from class 1-D. Izaya had only come across his name in passing at the library, but they had never spoken in length. It probably didn’t help they were in separate classes. He didn’t even bother matching Izaya’s gaze, frustrating the ravenette further. “Normally you hurry inside and situate yourself on the top floor with the large windows to wait for everyone else to arrive.”

“You don’t seem too perturbed,” Izaya retorted, his smile having dropped several paces back.

“You rarely ever watch me.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

“When people get engrossed in things, they forget about their surroundings. That sensation of being watched gets buried by whatever activity you’re doing.”

A tense silence lingered over them as they stood among the shoe lockers, Izaya rather stunned to close his umbrella as he took that in. It was aggravating, annoying, frustrating.

Amusing.

“You’re watching the people-watcher. Don’t you think that's weird?”

Kadota shrugged, “Perhaps, just thought maybe someone should tell you to try being less obvious. You’re pretty easy to spot through those windows. Maybe come down once in awhile and be among the mortals. It looks pretty lonely up there.”

Izaya chuckled, “If I had anyone to sit with, do you think I would look so ‘lonely’?”

“It’s an invitation.”

“I’ll pass.”

“It’s open.”

He watched the brunette saunter away and out of sight.

_‘So was that charming, or tedious?’_

* * *

 

The halls were deserted as he sprinted past the classrooms, taking full advantage of the lack of witnesses. He nearly skid right past the stairs, grabbing onto the top of the metal rail and slamming into the corner of the wall, but the adrenaline was more than enough to dull the blow to his pride as much as his body. He hurried down, jumping the last four steps before turning the corner towards the practice field. He didn’t even stop to change his shoes, not willing to miss the _hunt_.

Students lined the classroom windows, clubs officially postponed for the day. No, much too busy watching _this_. He stood on the edge of the grass as a human body flew through the air with a single punch. Shizuo had taken off his blazer and left it with his bag, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The setting sun finally broke through the cloud cover that had been hanging over Ikebukuro all day, setting the city on fire. Shizuo’s bleached hair standing out among the indistinguishable figures of faceless thugs. One charged, throwing a sloppy punch just to have it grabbed and his body used as a club against another who rushed from behind, holding an object over his head, a bat most likely.

He didn’t realize he was still moving until he could see the colours of the rival gang’s uniform, some nobody public school. There were at least a dozen bodies scattered around the field that he couldn’t see before, Shizuo was dirty and disgruntled, but otherwise unharmed. What was more surprising, perhaps, was that none of them were dead. He could hear the groans of pain as a few staggered upright.

“You’re not human!” Izaya turned to the screechy voice, the last man standing having dropped his weapon and preparing to run. “You’re a monster! Th-This isn’t over!”

Shizuo didn’t bother responding as they scampered away. It was almost like a scene in a drama, Izaya found himself in awe all over again.

“What are you doing here?” The blond hadn’t even turned and yet he knew.

Every fibre in his being told him to back away, keep his distance, it was natural when humans came across someone dangerous. It made him feel alive. “I had to come and see the Beast of ‘Bukuro myself.”

Those dark eyes glared through him like knives as Shizuo whipped around to face him. It wasn’t hard to find something about Heiwajima Shizuo, especially with the destruction he left in his wake since elementary. There was no pride in him, however. Instead he just seemed angry.

“I’m not some _monster_ here for your amusement!”

_‘Oh.’_

Izaya smiled, looking the taller boy up and down, making a show out of it. “Is there a tail you have tucked away somewhere?” Shizuo’s growing rage seemed to stop short, not lessen, but at least not getting worse. “Do you have sharp teeth? Wings? Do you drink human blood to survive, or change into an animal under the full moon?” The ravenette finished a circle around him, stopping an arms length away to give one final glance over. “Monsters don’t exist, Heiwajima-kun.”

“Shizu-chan!”

Both boys turned to see a girl sprinting across the field; plain-looking with short, curly hair. In her hand was a first aid kit. It took Izaya a moment to process everything before he turned back to Shizuo incredulously.

“Eh? You’re Shizu-chan!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it isn't clear, a couple weeks have passed since the last chapter
> 
> Let me gush about something real quick. I had the absolute most fun writing the opening scene of this chapter. I lowkey ADORE the twins, but it is another relationship that I feel is never really looked into in terms of the canon. Like, don't get me wrong, I think Izaya was a pretty darn good big brother in terms of taking care of them and keeping them alive, but that is it. He was a good BIG BROTHER. He practically raised the twins, but never filled that role as a parent. That is really important to me. Anyone else has any siblings knows that the criteria for being a good sibling and a good caretaker are vastly different.
> 
> I know the scenes with Shizuo and Izaya are pretty spread out, and still rather short, but they are still just existing around each other right now. Things will happen later, I promise. I just wanted to dedicate this chapter to Izaya and set a place for his life in this alternate timeline. Can I also say that I am so stupidly proud of the 'getting ready for school' scene?


	5. Forget and Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I ended up having to do something I don't like doing, which is inserting original characters. In canon Izaya learnt of Shizu-chan while interviewing people to learn more about Shinra, but things sorta changed with the whole, LACK OF SHINRA. You know how it goes. So yeah, taking literary license since, well, alternate timeline, things change.
> 
> Also, I have a playlist. It's like a constant work in progress. Some songs are very chapter specific, other songs just have the feeling of the scene I'm writing. You can listen here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLr0IU3KvAclHY_ojdOBBwKIhBFOpDbCKt

_The teacher stepped out while the students were on their first break, the children breaking into their groups of friends. Except Shizuo, sitting angrily at his desk, sulking._

_“Shizu-chan,” Shio interrupted- let’s be honest, he wasn’t doing anything but feeling sorry for himself. Shio was a cute girl, maybe, her curly hair pulled in some weird half-up/half-down hairstyle girls managed. She looked at him, concerned, “Is everything okay?”_

_“Yeah,” he huffed, shouldering away from her, not wanting to be bothered._

_Maybe that was mean, but he was angry._

_“U-uhm. If you want to… I mean, if you need-.”_

_“Yeah_ Shizu-chan _. Play house with the_ girls _.” Shizuo felt the vein in his forehead pulse, but he refused to turn to the taunting voice oh his ex-friend._

_Shio flustered, eyes getting glossy. “I’m sorry.”_

_Great, now she was upset too._

_“Oi!” he twisted around in his seat to glare down the other boy with his shiny bald head and piggy nose. “Shut up, Tarou!”_

_“Or what?!”_

_“Or I’m gonna make you!”_

_“Then do it!”_

_“Shizu-chan,” Shio interrupted, he turned to look at her, still glaring. That was when the jerk struck, throwing a compass that hit the back of his head. Shio fell back into the empty seat beside him as he stood, grabbing the leg of his desk as he did._

_And throwing it straight at the other boy._

_The crash as it narrowly missed the kid who was rooted in place, the only sign of life was the colour slowly draining from his face as everyone stared. Every muscle in Tarou’s neck strained against any sudden movements, muscles creaking in his own ears like hinges. The leg of the desk even with his face as it hung from where it had impaled halfway through the wall._

_‘... Crap.’_

_As the adrenaline died down, it was immediately replaced with a stabbing pain up his wrist and elbow. Shizuo’s own face paling for a completely different reason as he choked on the pain._

_“Sh-shizu-chan?” Shio asked, plastered to the seat she fell in._

_The classroom erupted into screams of terror and confusion, students running for the door as a nearby teacher overheard the commotion, trying to yell over the noise._

_“Shizu-.”_

_“Shio,” he mumbled as he slowly sank to the floor, the wounded limb held tightly to his chest. She scrambled out of the seat to kneel beside him, arms held awkwardly in the air as she was torn between touching him or not. “I think I need to call my mom…”_

* * *

 

The lights had started turning on one by one as he made his way home, the palm of his hand itching under the gauze Shio had wrapped it up in. He hadn’t even noticed he was injured until she saw the blood, apparently crushing a baseball bat with one’s bare hands was ‘dangerous’. He found himself staring at the bandage in confused apathy. He had just taken out a small mob, a handful of them left behind, out cold on the field, and she was scolding about how splinters could have gotten in his eyes.

“I probably traumatized her.”

 _“It would explain the first aid kit, ne?”_ the shadow mused aloud. He had gotten used to them alarmingly fast, the Shadow and the Ghost, but at least he only ever had to deal with one or the other. _"She’s a sweet girl, though. Maybe she just likes you~.”_ It was mocking.

“She should stay away,” he grumbled to himself, closing his hand into a fist.

 _“You’re right, she should.”_ It sighed disparagingly,  _“But even now, it seems you attract other’s.”_

“What are _you_ going on about?” he growled.

_“Just that you’re the sort of person people gravitate to, isn’t it funny? Despite your monstrous existence and the fact that humans should naturally despise yo- ... you know I can tell when you’re not listening.”_

Shizuo shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets, leaving the voice behind, he was hallucinating footsteps chasing after him. “Then get to the point.”

There was silence and he found himself turning to where the voice normally was, of course the shadow disappeared before he would have been able to see it, stuck to the peripheral of his vision.

_“Ne, don’t you ever wonder why you never asked his name?”_

_‘Whose-?’_

_“You don’t even realize it, do you? You feel like you know him, don’t you? More than just a case of deja vu, you_ know _him, so stop lying to yourself.”_

Black hair.

_“The name is right there. We both know it.”_

“No-.”

_“Lying to oneself was more my schtick; it doesn’t suit you.”_

“I ...”

_“Say it.”_

Shizuo felt trapped inside his own head.

_“Get to the point…. Shizu-chan.”_

He stood under the lamppost, but he seemed to just absorb the light. The plush fur of the jacket collar caressed a porcelain face that seemed too perfect for a regular person, but the shin-length coat just looked weird. He was taller than Shizuo, though only a little, the upper half of his face consumed by shadows of his own creation, unaffected by the light. His smile was malicious; a twisted sneer, like a scar, marring what could have been a pretty face.

“What the hell-?”

 _“Am I?”_ he finished, the grin splitting wider, _“I’m what you failed to forget.”_

* * *

 

_‘It’s for the best.’_

Tap……  Tap……  Tap……

_‘It’s okay, maybe now something even more interesting can happen.’_

Tap… Tap… Tap...

_‘It won’t be as thrilling, but that isn’t the point.’_

Tap. Tap. Tap.

_‘The point.’_

TapTapTapTap

_‘Keep them neither too distant nor too clo-.’_

“Iza-nii! Stop!” Mairu wailed, his pen he had been rapping against the tabletop flying from his grasp.

“Annoying.” Kururi chimed in, not needing much translating to get her point across.

Izaya blinked, returning to the dinner table, the workbooks open in front of each of them, smelling the slow cook meal his grandmother had started while they were at school. The girls’ faces changed from irritation to concern the longer he remained quiet, unable to do much more than stare at the empty page in front of him. His entire body felt heavy, it almost hurt.

* * *

 

 _“Sh… Shio-san?” The blond immediately forgot he was even there, turning his back on him. The girl finally reached them and he felt a tinge of frustration looking at her. Why was she so_ special _? He had gotten so close to Shizuo, they were talking, he had gotten a reaction he liked._

_It felt nice._

_Only to all collapse when she called out. Holding the medical kit to her chest in one hand, the other propping up her weight against her knee as she caught her breath. “I came… as soon as I heard… sorry… one moment.”_

_Shizuo looked dumbstruck. “Why?”_

_Izaya felt himself slowly backing away, no longer involved. Just the observer, all over again, and a part of him knew this was what he wanted, he promised it to himself, that was his resolve. Even more, she should have interested him. No one else had come out here, especially calling out to the one student everyone avoided, the scary ‘monster’ they didn’t understand. She should have been enticing._

_“In case you got hurt!”_

_“I-.”_

_“Shizu-chan, your hand’s bleeding!”_

_“... Oh.”_

_“Oh!? How did you not notice?”_

_“I just didn’t.”_

_He willed himself to walk faster._

_Disappear._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that got away from me.
> 
> I swear I am still keeping the characters IN-character, just right now it would be a little too much exposition to really explain where Izaya is right now. Just know that you can understand him from previous chapters and later I will do my best to spell it out. To be honest, even Izaya doesn't seem to know where he's at right now either.
> 
> For Shizuo, I hope that answers some questions. Or maybe makes more. It's kinda fun trolling you guys with things I think are super obvious and are actually painfully ambiguous. lol


	6. Dreaming Up Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to change a few things in this chapter reverting the year to 1995 with the help of Guest User 'A'. Thank you so much for the timeline. I will also be going back and fixing the discrepancies between my fanfiction and the official timeline. Some things I am taking liberties with:  
> Instant Messaging. I cannot find much information that is both Japanese-specific and relevant to the year. BBS (what the Dollars Website closely resembles, just much less refined) came into existence in the 1980s. I admit to not knowing much on these topics and I'm fudging quite a bit.  
> Energizer Bunny reference: Energizer bunny is pretty America-specific. I don't know if Japan would even know anything about it, especially in this timeline, but Izaya's parents work abroad and it is possible that they have brought things back with them. Something as simple as batteries with a bunny would be easy to bring back with them and memorable enough for 7 yr olds to reference it I think. I also think their parents would explain what the bunny was for ("It goes on and on and on.")

_ “Hurry up and remember Shizu-chan. I might just get bored waiting.” _

He felt tired.

Half-asleep, Shizuo forced himself upright and tossing his legs over the side of the bed, with a groan, propping up against his knees. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, forcing himself to hold onto those images in his head before they distorted and warped again. Tried to remember details even if he couldn’t understand them. He dreamt of a little girl with dark hair, her bangs shielding her face, but she smiled so sweetly. She held his shirt cuff as they walked.

He missed her, and yet he didn’t know her name.

Rubbing his face, he startled slightly at the touch of fabric to his face instead of his palm. Even in the dim light of the morning, he could see the creases and shadows of the bandage, but as the events from the other day started to come back, he found himself having a harder time remembering the tiny little hand brushing against his. The warmth of her smile, the innocence in her every feature. It was as if they couldn’t exist together, and as he woke up more he found her slipping away.

She melted like snow in his hands and all he was left with was dirty gauze and a pleasant smile he couldn’t read.

The hiss of water through the walls told him he’d be having a quick shower as he finally stood, wandering around the dim house, the sky a lazy grey-gold as the sun rose higher, paling out to the chilly blue of early morning. His socked feet muffled as he all but shuffled to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. It was like being in a movie, he could watch himself going through motions he didn’t even think of, grabbing the bowl, the cereal, the milk. Even the sweet sugar that buzzed over his taste buds didn’t alleviate the feeling of detachment. And for once he felt utterly alone, no Shadow, no Ghost, nothing to frustrate him or distract him. There was nothing to ground him.

_ “Monsters don’t exist, Heiwajima-kun.” _

Shizuo startled, blinking rapidly from his existential stupor, the fading wisp of bright russet eyes disappearing before he even realized they were there. And there he was. The clock ticked slowly, the sun started dipping through the kitchen window. The spoon had weight in his hand, it was so sudden he let it just fall back into the pool of milk.

“Izaya.”

* * *

 

It was like letting an excited dog off a leash when he finally let go of Mairu’s hand, her braids flying behind her as she made a mad dash straight for the dome jungle gym with a rebel cry. Izaya was left behind sighing in what amounted to physical exhaustion as he watched her go, running the back of his hand against his forehead. Kururi let go of his belt loop and followed behind more slowly before getting distracted by the swingsets, meandering her way over there instead. The park was still relatively empty; a group of older teens were by the fountain, two moms sat on a bench chatting, one holding her infant while the other absentmindedly rocked her stroller while a toddler played by himself in the nearby sandbox. Most children would be home having lunch, and while that fact disappointed him somewhat, he had to remember this wasn’t his idea.

Actually his plans for the day had accumulated to little more than sulk in bed all day. It was out of character for him, but he didn’t know how to cope with these feelings, it had been a long while since he had felt anything remotely similar to rejection. In the end, however, the twins took it upon themselves to get him out of his room. He had attempted to feign sleep, but after twenty minutes of Mairu loudly trying to pick his bedroom lock with a paperclip, he concluded that it wasn’t working. He did, however, take the time to explain that picking a lock with a paperclip was not as simple as pulling it into a rod and fiddling it around until something clicked; it was actually much more complicated than that.

“Door… (But the door opened.)” Kururi mumbled.

Mairu’s grin only grew, “So it did work!”

He couldn’t argue with that one.

And that was how he ended up being dragged out to the park. Settling on the edge of a planter where he could see most of the park and the foot traffic passing by, he was far more drawn to the businesspeople on break and school students out for the weekend in plainclothes, practically incognito aside from their closest friends. It was familiar and a distraction. He glanced over to the twins, Mairu having joined Kururi on the swings, twisting the chains and spinning in circles with squeals of laughter. “Those brats,” he muttered to himself, but smiling nonetheless. They were the only ones who could see through him and use his own twisted personality against him… and sometimes do things like this.

* * *

 

_ \- Shio, you went to Raijin Middle School, right? _

_ ~ I did! It was much less exciting than elementary. _

_ \- Do you know someone called Orihara Izaya? _

_ ~ Orihara-kun? Yeah! Or, well, I know of him, rather. I don’t remember any time I actually talked to him. _

_ \- What do you know about him? _

_ ~ Eh? Not much to be honest. He didn’t seem to have any friends, he didn’t get involved too much with others. _

_ ~ He was pleasant enough, though. No one ever had anything particularly bad to say about him. _

_ ~ Why do you ask? _

Shizuo stared at the messages. It was virtually nothing, it didn’t even contradict what he would have assumed from the two times they had actually interacted. Yet a part of him didn’t believe it, that same part of him was extremely suspicious of anything surrounding the ravenette. He had been on the field when Shio ran up, but by the time Shizuo overcame his surprise, he was already gone. It was like he was never there in the first place and he almost started believing he hadn’t been, that maybe he wasn’t even real.

_ \- He’s weird. _

_ ~ That’s how we know we’re talking about the same person. _

_ ~ Not that I think there are many Orihara Izayas out there _

So he was real. He really did dodge Shizuo’s punch. He really did return Shizuo’s bag. He really did come out to the field. Oh, wait.

_ \- Do you always call me Shizu-chan???? _

_ ~ Eh? Well, yes. Do you not like it? I can stop. _

_ \- It’s kinda childish... _

_ ~ (๑⁺᷄д⁺᷅๑)◞՞ _

_ ~ I’m sorry!! I’ll call you Shizuo-kun from now on! _

He sighed. Shio said she never recalled talking to Izaya. He didn’t know how to feel knowing she would talk about him without his knowing, especially using such endearing terms, especially in a place where someone like Izaya would overhear. And whatever the topic was, it was memorable enough to stay with the ravenette. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment the more he tried to make sense of it.

_ \- Just Shizuo is fine. _

He turned away from the computer, rubbing between his eyes. They had shared email addresses, but he wouldn’t have used it if it wasn’t for that name.

_ “She’s a good replacement, probably a better friend than I ever was.” _

Shizuo glanced up, the ghost dissipating into the dust particles he watched dancing between the streams of sunlight filtering between the half-heartedly closed blinds.

“Why can’t I see  _ you _ ?”

_ “Did you know you can’t dream up a face? Every person you see in your dreams is someone you’ve seen before. The human mind can’t create those things.” _

It wasn’t an answer. If anything it was completely contradictory; he didn’t know any of the people in his dreams. Shizuo found himself glaring out the window, teeth grinding together in frustration. If this kept up, he’d go crazy. Turning back to the chat log, Shio sent him more messages.

_ ~ Shizuo then! ~ヾ(＾∇＾) _

_ ~ Are you doing anything today? _

_ \- No. _

_ ~ Let’s meet up! _

_ \- And do what? _

_ ~ Nothing. Anything. Something! Let’s catch up, we can go to this cafe near the park, They have yummy sweets! _

It was better than going crazy in his bedroom.

_ \- Which park? I’ll meet you there. _

He felt eyes watching him, as if they knew he only accepted to get away from what he couldn’t understand. If he could describe the feeling he got, it’d have been commiserative. He fled the unseen eyes, calling to his mother as he made for the door, stopping to put his shoes on.

“Shio-chan?” Namiko called back in surprise. He glanced up to the kitchen where she was putting away groceries, her smile was different. Quickly she put down the bag she was holding and disappeared around the corner, leaving her oldest son standing awkwardly in the genkan before hurrying back with her purse in hand. “Here, some money.”

“Eh…? I have some-.”

“Just some extra,” she waved him off, forcing the paper into his hands and walking away before he could try to hand it back, “Have fun and be nice to Shio-chan.”

Shizuo stared at the money for a moment, looked back to his mother who had resumed putting the groceries away, humming a little tune to herself and smiling. Obediently he pocketed the cash and headed out the door, not before muttering, “She’s being weird.”

* * *

 

Izaya held Mairu up like one would a flea-covered stray, an arms length away with a mixture of affection and disgust. “Stop moving so much, you’re heavier than you think,” he chided, helping her to reach the sink outside of the public restroom to wash her hands. What she really needed was a bath, washing her hands was more or less moot with the dirt and grass stains clinging to her clothes and skin. When she turned off the little handle, he put her down, but kept a grip on her to keep her from running away. “You’re a disaster.”

“Iza-nii!” She whined, bouncing on her toes in place, “I still haven’t made a loopy-loop on the swings!”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not!?”

He picked blades of grass from her wild hair before turning her around, taking out the ruined braid and combing his fingers through the disheveled strands, “Because the swings were built to keep from doing that so reckless brats like you can’t hurt themselves.”

“Ouchie (But she did get hurt),” Kururi said, watching from the side as Izaya began twisting a new braid, referring to the raw scrapes on her twin’s knees.

“That’s because Mairu’s talented,” he muttered around the hairband he held between his teeth, only removing it to fasten the fresh braid, “You’re not supposed to jump off the swing.” Making sure it was on tight, he finally rapped a knuckle against the back of her head, “Done.”

“But I went farther than that boy,” the energetic one cheered, whipping so fast her long hair almost smacked her brother across the face. If she hadn’t started yelling before turning around, Izaya wouldn’t have flinched back in time to avoid the unintentional weapon.

Sighing, the oldest Orihara stood, rubbing the back of his head, “How are you still so energetic?”

“Bunny (She’s like the bunny in the commercials).”

“That’s right!” Mairu grinned, “I’m an energy bunny!”

“When I find where the batteries are, I’ll be sure to take them out,” Izaya smiled with sarcastic vexation.

Kururi took his belt loop in her tiny hand again, tugging lightly until she was sure she had his attention, “Food (I’m hungry.)”

“Me too!”

Izaya looked between the two faces staring up at him expectantly, one clean and neutral, the other smudged with dirt and beaming. By the way they were looking at him, he already knew they would protest going home, even though the idea of taking Mairu anywhere as dirty as she was made his skin crawl. And he knew he owed them. “Fine. We can get something.”

“Yay!” Mairu cheered, throwing her fists into the air as she jumped in place. Kururi smiled and leaned her head against his hip.

* * *

 

The cafe was small and clean in an upscale part of the city, smelling of the sweet baked goods more than the bitter coffee. A few people sat at the small tables, mostly couples, there were some booths, but it seemed a bit rude to take one with it only being the two of them. He felt a little bad, he didn’t have much to say about himself so Shio did most of the talking while he ate his parfait and sipped the strawberry milk.

“Do you usually have nothing to do? N-not to sound rude!” Seeing his deadpan confusion, her cheeks reddened slightly, eyes looking everywhere but at him, “I’m sorry, that was a tactless question."

“Yeah.” He stared at the strawberry on his spoon, regarding it apathetically, figuring his direct eye-contact was what made her so flustered. “I mostly just stay home.”

“Oh.”

_ ‘I don’t like the way people look at me.’ _

“What about you?”

_ ‘Of course you have other people to be with.’ _

She smiled weakly, “I do, I’m still in contact with Chisa, but she moved pretty far away. Sayako is in my class, but I don’t know if we’re really compatible anymore.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Shizuo struggled to come up with something to say when Shio beat him to it. “Oh, look, it’s Orihara-kun!” She was looking out the window across the street to the ice cream parlor. Following her gaze, Izaya stood at the front counter, flanked on both sides by two elementary students. “Those must be his sisters. I guess they live around here, their parents would make a lot of money working abroad.”

All three of them looked strange, standing out even when they weren’t in their uniforms. Izaya was dressed in black jeans and layered a black short sleeved shirt over a red long-sleeve. One girl practically clung to him like velcro, but was dressed in rolled up jeans and a plain button up shirt while the other practically shoved her face against the display case, glasses skewed on her nose from rough treatment. Everything about them seemed off, and yet that made sense if it was them.

Izaya practically dragged the girl with the braid away from the display, looking thoroughly exasperated while the employee behind the counter handed them ice cream in waffle bowls with a smile, turning his sister around to walk her to a booth. It was a complete accident that their eyes met, but it was unmistakable that they were recognized when he saw the ravenette’s body tense.

“Oops! He caught us!” Shio giggled as he quickly averted his eyes to glare at the parfait. He watched her shadow wave out the window. “Haha, his sister waved back! They’re an odd set.”

Izaya looked like the shadow, and it confused Shizuo why that made him so angry.

_ “Like you can’t dream up faces, you can’t remember a face you’ve never seen.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really trying to make my chapters longer so you guys have more to read. It just felt like the story needed to slow down and be more coherent which, for me, required longer chapters. I don't like spreading one day over three chapters, that's frustrating. I also re-read my novels and tried adding a bit of Narita's style to the narrative. It's a little clunky and childish in English, but I like the way it sort of just meanders. I hope I did it some justice.
> 
> And finally, you may all be sitting here wondering how I can keep this rage posting going. Well, I've actually been terribly sick this last week and had to call off from work. My hours this week were cut pretty bad because of it, so I have lots of time to write. When I go back to work, the posts will become delayed again, so i just wanted to take advantage of my free time.


	7. A Tiger in a Glass House

Shizuo hated violence, but what did it matter? He always ended up losing his temper, he always ended up hurting someone. At some point the line between his violent acts and his own being began to blur. Now, whenever he said that line, it meant something entirely different.

She was kindness.

There was nothing particularly amazing about her at a glance, most people probably wouldn’t remember her face if they passed her on the street. Maybe even him. She was pretty but rather generic, her large glasses took up half her face anyway, framed by careless dark hair. She didn’t seem the type to fuss over how she looked, but that wasn’t why he felt his cheeks flush when she smiled, or his little heart beat frantically as she ruffled his own unruly locks. No, what made her special was that it was her, and she was Kindness. To be fair, she probably only took an interest in him because he was some pathetic brat, always injured in some way by his own tantrums, not that she would know that. No, all she knew was that he was hurt, and she cared.

But he was Violence, and he ruined it all.

So Shizuo hated violence.

* * *

 

The street lights flickered on one by one, the sidewalks empty and echoing his footsteps in the cold stillness of a spring night. He would walk this way home from their old elementary. Of course this was where his feet would carry him. The alley where his little brother tried to catch a feral kitten; Shizuo had found it a week later, hit by a car. He told Kasuka it went to a nice home but he wasn’t sure if the stoic child believed him, and now he would always see a dead kitten passing that alley. Then there was the park, where he had his first real fight. A bunch of adults were being stupid and when he went to see what was happening… well. Long story short, he lost his temper. The damages had been repaired a long time ago, just like the bones he had broken that day, but he could still see the bodies flung about like rag dolls. If he thought hard enough, he could feel the old injuries protest dully.

The red flashing lights startled him to a stop, the crossing bar slowly falling in front of him to detain him on the way home, the tolling of the bell alarming him that the train would be coming soon, and it’d be best if he stayed where he was.

_“Ah, this was where it happened?”_

He refused to look, which caused the shadow to laugh, but he knew. He knew the little bakery shop wasn’t there anymore. He knew Kindness didn’t exist there anymore, not after he broke her. He didn’t want to see what was there now, though. Shizuo still wanted to believe that maybe she would come back, that maybe he could apologize one day.

 _“What a joke,”_ the shadow laughed, _“You know you wouldn’t. And it isn’t even because of what you did! No, you’d run away because you’re scared how she'll react.”_

Shoulders crowded his neck as he tried to will the voice to shut up, the figure dancing in front of that building as if to taunt him to look up, force him to relive it. He refused, staring straight ahead as the train finally rushed past him.

 _“Neh, Shizu-chan.”_ The pale face suddenly inserted itself into his view, startling him back a step. He was smiling. _“It’s funny, isn’t it? People should learn to just stay away.”_

“...”

_“I know, ‘That’s all I want’. But it isn’t really, now is it?”_

His brows furrowed further but he had trapped himself There was nowhere else to look unless he wanted to relive that evening. Those eyes were red, seeming to glow from the depths of shadows. The smile disappeared,but it changed nothing of how he looked.

_“But you’re a monster, and humans should despise monsters.”_

That was such childish logic, but he couldn’t help but agree. He had always felt the same way, after all.

_“So why?”_

The shadow stepped back towards the tracks, keeping perfect eye-contact as he did. He knew this man wasn’t real, but he still felt the knee-jerk panic of watching someone approach danger. He reached out-.

His arms crossed over in a brace, kicking back to hopefully reduce the impact…

The body he could never hurt felt soft, it gave way under his hand. The image of invincibility shattered, the shadow disappeared between the cars of the train, leaving him alone as the rhythmic chime of the railroad crossing grew deafening. When it stopped, he found himself missing it.

* * *

 

“I’m home,” Shizuo called softly as he slipped out of his shoes and into the slippers, he could faintly smell the remains of dinner. It didn’t bother him, he didn’t feel like eating anyway,m the parfait he had eaten that afternoon sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

Namiko sat at the dinner table, the dishes already cleaned as she skimmed the magazines that had come in that day, glancing up at the muffled sound of his footsteps. She looked tired but smiled anyway, “How did it go? Did you have fun?”

Shizuo shrugged, walking to the fridge for a bottle of milk to calm his stomach. “It was okay. She did most of the talking.”

“Where did you two go?” She had closed the magazine, attention rapt on him as he stood in front of the fridge, glass halfway to his mouth.

“Uh,” she kept staring, motioning with her hand for him to continue, “Uhm, there was this cafe that sold parfaits. It was in a pretty expensive place, ah, thank you for the extra money.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” She looked relieved.

The cold weight that came with guilt settled on his shoulders, making him very tired. “Yeah. I’m really tired.”

“That’s okay. Sleep well.”

All he ever did was cause problems for those who insisted on caring about him. Walking down the hall to his room, he stared at the bottle of milk in his hands. His room was dark, illuminated that hazy orange from outside, but all he could see was the bottle. It was glass, fragile. All it would take was a second to lose his concentration, one annoyance to flare his temper, and the glass would shatter in his hands. He could do it now, just a gentle squeeze and it would break. It wouldn’t take much at all.

He downed the cold milk, not willing to waste it, before collapsing on the futon, the container on the nightstand. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, burying his face into the pillow and turning his back on the room. The shadow watched him silently, split by the crack running through the face of the bottle.

* * *

 

“Why did you bleach your hair?”

Her hand was halfway to his head when he turned, catching her in the act. He didn’t know what sort of expression he had, but she smiled sheepishly, dropping her arm to lace her fingers in her lap. She was trying real hard, that was why it bothered him so much. Even that sort of action, like petting a temperamental dog.

Shizuo stared her down, her own eyes flickering from his face to her hands to the empty field she had found him in, the signs of the fight last week gone, it was like it never happened. “A senpai from my middle school suggested it.”

“That doesn’t seem like you,” Shio spoke before thinking, her eyes getting wide when she realized just what she said, “I-I don’t mean that badly, though!”

Shizuo ignored the stuttering, people stuttered around him all the time, especially when they thought he would get angry. Instead he stared up at the sky, the clouds like stretched out cotton balls as the spring breeze carried them away. “Tom-san stuck his neck out for me back then, he also recommended I bleach my hair as a warning.”

“Oh! Like those caution signs! That’s clever!” she beamed from ear to ear, he could see her chin tilted up, the lower half of her face from his peripherals, so he figured she was looking at the sky too. “You’re tall too, so it stands out.”

“Yeah.” Tom had said the same thing. They both fell silent and Shizuo took the opportunity to settle further, sprawling out on the grass to relax and maybe nap before the lunch break ended. He felt exhausted, she must be too. As a force of habit, he glanced up at the third story window, the dark figure watching them. How irritating.

He had expected her to leave, he could feel her moving nearby and he had purposefully given her a way out without being rude. Instead she settled down beside him, fixing her skirt to maintain decency and crossing her ankles, her bag a  pillow as she stared up at the clouds as well. “You always find the sunniest spots, Shizuo,” she hummed happily, fingers lacing over her stomach as she let her brown eyes slide shut.

“Is that why?”

“Huh?” Her eyelids flew open as she turned to him. They were close, he could smell her shampoo. “Why what?”

“You come find me.”

If that was all, it was okay. They could be okay, he could share the sunlight.

Her cheeks grew a delicate shade of pink as she started avoiding his eyes again, a nervous little smile tugging at her lips. She was wearing lipgloss, he hadn’t noticed before. “Ah, well… I come here because… I really like Shizuo.” He sat up, grabbing his bag as he got to his feet. He could hear her exclaim in surprise, scrambling up as well. “Shizuo! Shizuo, did I say something wrong?” He didn’t respond, how could he respond? What could he say?

She grabbed his hand.

“Let go.”

“Shizuo, I’m sorry! Please, pretend I didn’t say anything!” she begged, her voice pitched almost hysterically, “I said something unnecessary!”

“Let go.”

“Please, Shizu-chan, I-.”

He turned on her, the sudden action cutting her off. The sun caught on her eyes, they shined brighter with the threat of tears. Her grip lessened as he glared her down. “I said ‘let go’.” Her fingers trembled, her whole body did, but she resisted as long as she could. She meant it. Eventually, she released his arm, dropping her gaze to her shoes to hide her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I ruined it, didn’t I?”

Shizuo walked away as fast as he could, pretending he didn’t notice the pain in her voice. What a shitty thing, making a her cry, but at least she wasn’t broken.

The girl of glass was still in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up really loving Namiko so I had to write more of her. Sorry not sorry.  
> This longer chapter thing really isn't happening, is it? :/


	8. One-Way Window

Izaya wasn’t normal, that much was generally agreed upon, not that it particularly bothered him. It wasn’t like he stood out, at least it never seemed that way, it was just that he felt different. It wasn’t the cause of some paradigm shift in his upbringing, no reports of trauma or abuse to be seen. No, Izaya just existed in a completely different realm from others; if life was a radio, he ran on a different wavelength entirely, and he didn’t mind. In fact, there were few things Izaya minded, which he considered a rather admirable quality; it made life easy for himself and those around him. It was something his parents would praise him for as a child when they would come home on holiday, if they came home. However, that was precisely why they appreciated it so much, he never resented them. He had no preferences, to be honest, whether it was raining or sunny outside didn’t change the way he saw the day; and he found himself appraising people like he did the weather. He was an outside observer, unaffected by the highs and lows of what happened around him. After all, it wasn’t like he could make the sun shine brighter or the rain to stop or the flowers bloom or the snow melt.

So things like friends didn’t bother him, he just didn’t have any.

* * *

 

They laid out on the field, like they were getting ready to take a nap together. His curled in a sneer as he watched them, and he didn’t really know why, just that it frustrated him. He couldn’t take it anymore, stepping away from the window, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his middle school uniform, he walked towards the stairs. Ever since he had seen Shizuo fight, _really fight_ , it was like he couldn’t get it out of his head. It wasn’t that he _needed_ to see that power, though he wouldn’t complain if he did. No, it was something else. He didn’t even really think, letting his feet carry him away from the infuriating scene, only to find they had brought him to the library.

He stared at the handle of the door, unsure if he wanted to open it. It would be a bit like admitting defeat.

* * *

 

_Shizuo met his eye directly, and a strange sensation coursed through his body, both hot and cold, his muscles tensing. Mairu seemed completely oblivious of the change in her brother, but Kururi reacted instantly, looking up to him with confusion and concern. That girl was there. Of course she was, but why did it bother him so much. Why did he feel stuck._

_“Iza-nii, I think they’re waving to you!” Mairu finally looked up, brows furrowing at his slightly paler complexion, “Iza-nii?”_

_“Wave… (We should wave back.)” Kururi piped up, saving him from further scrutiny. Shizuo had already turned away, but it didn’t make the feeling go anywhere._

* * *

 

“Kadota-san.”

The brunette startled , the front legs of the chair slamming into the floor as he scrambled to right himself before the librarian returned from lunch. Seeing Izaya, he relaxed instantly, smiling at his own ridiculousness than the arrival or the other teen. “Got lonely, Orihara-san?”

“I decided to try something different. I’ve never spent my free time with one person, so consider yourself as exceptional,” he brushed the accusation away with a wave of his hand, plopping heavily into the seat across from the taller boy, leaning back as Kadota had been before Izaya had startled him, pushing against the table with his knee. They both wore their old middle school uniforms, though Kadota’s still fit properly, Izaya’s wrists were out-growing the sleeves and half his torso was exposed under the jacket. “Is that your original uniform?”

“Yeah, I grew a lot during middle school, so I figured I’d be pretty set. Didn’t see a reason to buy the high school uniform if I’m not growing much. It’s the same school anyway.”

Kyohei watched the creature in front of him, something barely human. He had already seemed to lose interest in him, taking to staring out the window dejectedly, not even really seeing the few students who interacted below. The sun made his eyes look richer, more red than brown. Beyond that, he was attractive, a little skinny perhaps, but his face was what many would go under the knife for, not even a blemish. His bad personality probably made up for that, he just felt off.

“Would you say people can sense danger or abnormalities?” he asked, getting those dulled rubies to turn back to him, shining a little brighter.

Izaya sat properly in his chair, letting the front legs down more gracefully than Kadota had. “What sort of question is that? Of course they can, it only depends on whether or not they listen to those feelings. Most people shrug off intuition as some kind of overreaction. I believe if people trusted themselves more, there would be less crime.”

“Like the idea that if you get a bad feeling, you won’t end up in a bad situation?”

The ravenette laughed through his nose, “ More the other way around. Do you think Furuta Junko would have ended up dead if the parents of those boys had acted before things escalated so far? Even Furuta’s own parents should have been able to tell something was wrong. I’m not claiming to know much on the personal details of their home life, but there are always signs. Most of the time they are too minute for humans to comprehend consciously, but they are enough to trigger the more primal parts of the brain and give the sensation of a ‘Sixth Sense’. It isn’t some psychic ability, just basic psychology.”

“Did you have to bring up something so unpleasant?” Kyohei found himself cringing as the topic swung to a terribly dark place.

“Life is unpleasant, Kadota-san.”

The answer was something simple, not even needing a breath to think about a reply. It wasn’t even particularly profound, but true nonetheless. “It doesn’t seem to affect you at all.”

There was a pause, and it was more profound than any words could be.

“What would you have done?”

A cynical smile spread across his perfect features, “That is an unfair question. To say what I’d do differently in that position would suggest that I would be blaming the victim for not trying hard enough.”

“You’re right, that is unfair. Still, what would you have done in a similar situation? You’re attractive enough, kidnapping isn’t something outside of the realm of possibility.”

“Physical appearance has little to do with determining victims of assault, but that doesn’t change anything, does it?” he smiled, finally turning completely away from the window to honestly mull over the question. “I believe the general consensus would be to not give in easily, maybe have a form of protection like mace or a knife. However, I’d probably go along with it. I’d be curious.”

“You’d die for your curiosity?”

“It would be the only reason I would accept.”

Kyohei leaned back in his own chair now, “Is that why you’re so interested in Heiwajima-kun from class 1-C?”

That faraway look returned to those russet eyes, obviously thinking something he didn’t want to share. “You’ve been watching me again, Kadota-san?”

“Everyone saw you running out there,” Kadota maintained direct eye contact, remaining neutral.

“Well, of course, he is something different; but ultimately still a human. I’m surprised most people aren’t interested.”

“Most people don’t want to risk the hospital.”

“Some would say his looks are to die for,” he teased back, using Kyohei’s comment on his own attractiveness. He was looking for a reaction.

The brunette shrugged, denying him anything, “I like to think people wouldn’t literally risk their lives, despite how attractive someone is.”

“Have you ever heard about the Bonnie and Clyde syndrome? It’s a fixation of certain individuals have with murderers and serial killers of a romantic even sexual, sort. Ted Bundy in America got married _after_ his conviction of several murders, even siring a child in the process. He was also considered quite attractive.”

Kyohei could do little more than stare as he wrapped his mind around the information he was fairly sure he didn’t need to know. He could ask how the other teen knew any of that, or even why, but he was fairly sure he knew the answer already. When Izaya said he was curious, he had been understating the severity of the condition. “You really are as strange as you seem.”

“How strange are you for seeking me out? I’m just taking up your ‘open’ invitation.”

He hummed in agreement, not able to argue with that logic, “You didn’t seem too keen before the fight last week. Did something happen with Heiwajima-kun?”

Izaya’s eyes grew large at the question, as if he didn’t know how to feel in reaction to the comment. It took a couple moments of watching him sort himself out before that blase smile returned. “Nothing happened. Nothing at all.”

_‘So that’s what the problem is. He’s surprisingly human after all.’_

“Let’s talk more about unpleasant things, I think I liked that better.”

“No thanks, they’re only unpleasant to me.”

He laughed, but it still felt off, but that made sense to Kyohei. After all, he was on the _inside_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, keep in mind all the other chapters when it comes to this one. Izaya is still bitter about Shizuo's 'rejection', but he left before the ending of the last chapter so he doesn't know anything that happened between Shizuo and Shio. Instead, if it wasn't clear, he got jealous enough to find his own 'friend', even though you can hardly call them that. I don't even think Izaya fully accepts just how childish he is being, but Kadota does and he's cool with it. It's kinda cute, in that tsundere sort of way. And is Kadota gay? Izaya thinks it's a possibility, haha. Kadota confirmed or denied nothing like a boss.
> 
> About the Furuta Junko incident, look that up at your own risk. It was a terrible and horrific murder that shook many people to their core. The worst fact is that none of the murderers were sentenced to more than 20 years after what they did to that girl. It can be quite graphic and there has been various other medias depicting the incident from exploitation films to an extremely graphic manga I have actually read. The abuse was long and severe, and if you are of the delicate kind, do not look it up.


	9. Box of Mirrors

Ever since he saw Izaya, his dreams had gotten worse. More vivid, he hardly felt like he was getting any rest at all. It didn’t even matter where he fell asleep, if anything dozing off in class was even worse, since he had to then pretend that he wasn’t completely disoriented. The other students wouldn’t dare laugh when the teacher loudly clearing his throat startled the blond awake, but the figures in his dream didn’t fade. Or rather, _figure_. The only person he could vividly remember, the only face he could see clearly, the only voice that still rattled around his skull.

He had to get to the bottom of it.

_"Do you remember how we became friends?”_

“We were friends?” Shizuo scoffed, leaning against the fence, letting the higher altitude breeze blow through him. The new month was already feeling warmer so it didn’t bother him as much, especially since the dark figure in the window couldn’t watch him anymore. From the distance he couldn’t tell if it was the real Izaya or the Shadow.

The ghost laughed like it was the best joke he had ever heard, as if Shizuo wasn’t being serious. The voice was annoying, it talked too much, was way too happy. It reminded him a bit of how Shio tried to be. _“Ah, you are really gonna regret that one. She really did seem to like you.”_

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

 _“‘If I let myself love her, she would always be in danger,’ that’s what you’re thinking, right?”_ the Ghost spoke for him, seeing too deep and pulling out those broken pieces he tried to forget. _“Your family is fine, and they live with you. Even Izaya dodged your attacks when you ran into him again, ah, just like old times. But perhaps you’re thinking about the intimacies of a relationship? That maybe you’ll love her so much you’d crush her spine in a hug, or maybe break her hips in a moment of passion?”_

Shizuo’s face fought between a  bright pink at the lurid details of the accusation, or pale at the more violent acts that he knew weren’t outside the realm of possibility.  It was even worse that he couldn’t punch the faceless being. A punch was definitely called for. “Don’t make me kill you.” Again the Ghost guffawed riotously, taking his threat with the same amount of weight it actually posed to the figment.

 _“Those are possibilities after all. Relationships are difficult things, but that was why I introduced you two.”_ Shizuo flinched at that, actually turning only to have the figure disappear. _“‘Those two would suit each other perfectly,’ I thought, two giant cowards facing the world together. I never really wanted friends after all, and I knew I was a pretty crummy one at that. I figured, as long as you two had each other, you would be okay.”_

“Wha-?”

_“Of course you both tried killing each other after a record-breaking six seconds. I guess that wasn’t surprising either. People don’t like their own reflections, especially when they are unflattering. You would always say how you hated how he would manipulate others and talk too much, but you hated him before he ever opened his mouth. Just at a glance, you were repulsed by him. I always thought he would be drawn in by you, being so enthralled by humans and their oddities. Perhaps even find a kindred spirit in you, maybe you could have fixed what I ruined.”_

“I don’t even get what you’re saying now.”

The Ghost sighed, not exasperated, more like he was reminiscing fondly. _“It’s okay. He seems better now, without my bad personality to ruin him.”_

“He’s got a pretty shitty personality himself.” The awkward, even cheeky ravenette with his fake smiles and eyes that seemed to stare through you.

_“Ah, I suppose that’s true, but nothing compared to before.”_

The man in the fur-trimmed coat with eyes that glowed like the lights atop the Tokyo skyscrapers. Shizuo was dangerous, but he was danger incarnate. Those eyes were the only warning you had.

 _“That’s really how you see him?”_ the voice sounded melancholic, _“I guess he became that way towards the end. I always saw him as he was. Perhaps I saw the part of him no one else did.”_

A heavy silence fell over Shizuo, his body tensing instinctively. “Did I kill him?”

_“Yes.”_

Shizuo felt his heart plummet to the floor leaving nothing but a cold, empty space behind. His entire body going numb in shock as he felt himself lean heavier against the fence for support.

_“Just kidding! I only know what you remember, but it is Izaya. Knowing him, he would’ve been fine.”_

“You fucking bastard!”

Maybe he couldn’t punch a ghost, but no one would be allowed on the roof for a while with the ruined fence.

* * *

 

Today was exhausting.

Waking up that morning to the kitchen all but destroyed as the twins tried to make breakfast on their own. He sent them to the bath while he spent the extra time cleaning the spilled milk and batter they had used to recreate a Jackson Pollock painting. The stove was on too high and the smell of smoke had been what woke him up in the first place. It was the quietest case of mass destruction he had ever seen. After washing all the unnecessary bowls and pans they had used in their attempt, he restarted the recipe he found on the kitchen counter for crepes. He appreciated the ambition and consideration. After breakfast, Mairu tried using the day as an excuse to skip school, whining the entire time he prepared their clothes as usual. He had to promise to stop by the store with the girls after school so they could go shopping. The phone never rang.

That was okay.

During lunch, he found himself with Kadota again, the third day in a row, they had even begun leaving school together, the two of them changing out their shoes in their lockers. Of course it was a constant battle to maintain anything remotely appearing like interest. Izaya too often enjoyed talking about things that would disturb most people and Kadota having to insist on gaining the ravenette’s attention with questions or comments. If Izaya thought that something interesting was happening around them, he would completely shut down and return to his hobby.

“You’re really bad at this ‘friend’ thing,” Kadota muttered, earning a laugh from the shorter teen as they descended the front steps, Izaya once again distracted by his entertaining humans. Two girls whispering to each other, a group of thuggy boys cohorting around the corner, just out of earshot.

“You knew that when you approached me,” he responded cheerfully after they managed to get out of eavesdropping distance of the girls.

“I thought you’d might be a bit more appreciative.”

Izaya finally turned his attention back with the most condescending sneer, “Oh so appreciative, Dota-chin noticed me~.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

The ravenette giggled, shaking his head at the deadpan response, as if the indifference was more amusing than if the other boy had been violently perturbed. This seemed to be the extent of their relationship, casual conversation with Izaya teasing Kadota and the latter being mildly annoyed but otherwise unphased. Despite this, they still couldn’t be called friends. There was companionship, but no connection beyond that; they were still strangers.

“You usually hang back and watch the other students leave first, something going on at home?”

Izaya found himself sighing, still feeling that irritated crawl of someone knowing his habits, but forgiving it just as quickly. “My little sisters ordered me home straight away to take them out shopping.”

“You have sisters?” his voice piqued with interest.

“Elementary students,” Izaya waved it off, knowing that Kadota was using the information to piece together more of his life, “Twins. Our grandmother usually picks them up from school and gets dinner started before I come home. They _need_ me to do anything fun, most people call the police when two seven-year-olds are on their own.” They rounded the corner taking them away from the main street towards the residentials only for him to collide with something firm and blue. Staggering back, Izaya blinked owlishly in shock, taking in the figure in front of him. It was like running into cement. “Heiwajima….san?”

The surprise of being ran-into faded almost instantly when Shizuo’s gaze matched the shorter boy’s. Instead, he hardened his resolve, hands closing into fists inside his pockets. “Izaya. We gotta talk.”

Kadota stood awkwardly between them, feeling a confusing shift to the atmosphere that was less than comfortable. “Uh… I can go.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Izaya seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he had been wrangling, waving Kadota off, “See you, Kadota-san.”

Once the brunette was out of earshot, Izaya turned back to Shizuo, looking him up and down once more with a guarded expression, as if he didn’t believe this was the real Shizuo. At least that fake smile was gone. “That is awfully familiar, don’t you think Heiwajima-san? Let alone, I don’t quite recall giving you my name.”

“I didn’t give you mine either.”

He gave a short laugh through his nose, one arm crossed over his chest as he balanced his elbow on it, his hand covering his mouth in a way that hid most of his face. Only those eyes were visible, and they were sharper than knives. “I concede to that. What do you need to talk to me about?”

“Why were you on the field?”

“Haah?” his hand dropped enough that Shizuo could see his face screw up in confusion, “I said. I wanted to se-.”

“You could have seen from the window. I know you watch me from there.”

Izaya snapped his mouth shut, it was a valid point, however the blond was hedging him in, and he found himself becoming annoyed. “What do you want to hear.”

He watched the confusion descend over Shizuo’s features. He didn’t know that was such a hard thing to understand. “What? No, I,” he growled, the more frustrated he became, the less threatened Izaya felt. “I want to know why. The real reason why!”

"Why? What would it matter if I tell you a reason that may or may not be true. Sure, I could have seen from the window, like everyone else, but it isn’t the same.”

“That’s not normal.”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

Shizuo felt his temper rising, running his hand roughly through his hair to try and bring it down. He just wanted a simple, straightforward conversation! “Why do you have to make a game out of this!?”

“Am I winning?”

He was gonna kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to make reference to a doujinshi I really loved called the New Game + Trilogy. It is one of those doujinshi that probably keeps the characters as close to in character as they can. At least in their interpretation of the characters. While i don't completely agree with their characterization, there is a line in the DJ where Shizuo makes comment on the lights at the top of the tall buildings and I really loved it and all that it entailed, so made a call back.
> 
> I said this in a comment last chapter, but holy hell, Shinra and Izaya are such trolls! I fucking love writing them tormenting Shizuo, but Shinra is the reasonable one. I always wondered why Shinra would introduce the two of them. Most people have it that Izaya instigates the connection, I noticed. Like he asks Shinra to introduce them. I personally think Shinra would have done that on his own. If his friends, who couldn't be friends with anyone else, could be friends with each other, he could take a lesser role in their lives. After all, he had no interest in humans, creating a group wouldn't be at the top of his priorities, you know?
> 
> This chapter was a real struggle to get out. Like I really wanted to write it, but I had to rework so many aspects and pieces of the chapter, probably completely restarted four or five times. For once, I think Shizuo's part was much more fun than Izaya's. I don't even know where they'll go next chapter, so I'm not sure if I like it in the end, but this was what made it work for me at this time, so hopefully by the weekend I can crank out the next one for you guys. Probably should people watch again, I haven't been able to and I think you can tell. Most of his is written at my dinner table at 3 am.


	10. Off Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well and safe! I also wanted to deeply apologize about how short this chapter is. I just really needed to get something out after being gone so long and I wanted to let you all know I am okay but not without something to give you guys, so please enjoy

_ “If there was ever anything to  _ fear _ about that stupid flea, it would be that attachment of his. It’s honestly ominous how focused he’ll become on it… His own life is secondary to him.Every time I thought  _ ‘with this, he’ll lay off;’  _ he would take another step forward and come at me again.” _

* * *

 

Human Observation isn’t something special, everyone was guilty of doing it. Maybe in a restaurant or on the subway or just at the store; humans are social creatures and that resulted in a natural curiosity of each other’s dealings. The nonverbal cues, microexpressions and split second interactions were the real conversation, and each one was unique enough that is could be its own language. Everyone was guilty of it, but no one would admit to such activities. An invasion of privacy.

The woman in her office clothes, bending slightly with her hands on her knees like a schoolgirl, despite the tight fabric of her pencil skirt. Her makeup was faded except for the bright vibrant peach of her lips, having been touched up recently. Her hair had been in a ponytail all day, the indent mid-shaft was too even, like when he took Mairu’s braids out before bed.  She had taken it out, letting the cascading strands falling over her shoulders and back, lightly tousled. She looked young, perhaps too young to be an office-worker. She could have been a second or third year high school student; but her uniform didn’t match any schools in the area. She may go to public school, but that didn’t seem to fit. Public school kids wouldn’t dress like that, but the rushed faux-casual appearance and makeup didn’t make sense for someone who was home schooled. Then there was-.

“Nii-san.”

Izaya blinked, cutting off the rambling thoughts and refocusing on the little bodies in front of him, the disinterested part-timer behind the counter closing the small box on the counter. Two pairs of eyes stared expectantly at him as the ten sighed, pulling out his wallet. It was more irritating that he didn’t know what they bought. Not that it would really matter anyway, would it?

* * *

 

“Wait, you’re paying for it?”

Izaya stared blankly at the blonde while the two identical girls shuffled just out of his peripheral. Glancing down, the girl with the glasses was hoisting the quiet one up like a little cheerleader, just high enough to grab the box and scurry away. All it reminded him of was their first meeting on the rooftop, how Izaya had managed to dodge his punch.

They were like a little family of ninjas.

“What are you still doing here anyway?” the ravenette half-laughed, completely ignoring his question.

That was a good damn question, not that his parents or brother would particularly worry about him being out so late. He still wanted to let them know where he was and what he was doing. “I… got nothing better to be doing.”

Izaya’s face changed, if he had blinked he would have missed it. His features shifting so quickly through so many different feelings that Shizuo could only make out the irritation and typical amused curiosity. Apparently that had gotten under his skin a bit, and for some reason it made Shizuo feel both guilty and accomplished.

“Hey, Mr. Blondie!” the glasses-wearing girl suddenly exploded between them, “Can I ride on your shoulders!”

“No.”

Izaya took her by the shoulder, steering her away from him as the quiet one followed behind obediently like a little duck, stopping only to take his finger in her hand and pull him along. Not that she was strong enough to force him to follow; he just felt like he should. The fact that she could touch him so easy…

* * *

 

“Wha!? Why!”

Why indeed. Why was Shizuo Heiwajima going shopping with them? Why wouldn’t he just go home?

“Because you can get hurt.”

“False. (That can’t be true).”

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Shizuo walking obediently beside the elementary student. It was almost comical, like a toddler holding the leash of a large dog; he half expected the blonde to make a run for it. “It’s getting dark, shouldn’t  _ Heiwajima-san _ be heading home?”

The taller teen had the nerve to just shrug, lazily looking up at the sky, painted some chaotic mesh of orange and purple. “My parents don’t worry about me.”

_ ‘Of course not, you can punch a harasser into orbit if they messed with you.’ _

“Mr. Blondie!” Mairu twirled around, walking backwards beside her brother, “You should spend the night!”

“Mai-!”

“Sure.” Shizuo blinked, surprised by his own answer as the twins looked first surprised before Mairu yipped, jumping up and punching the air before skipping ahead. Kururi just smiled a little smile, her tiny hand giving his finger an appreciative little squeeze, walking a bit closer to him as well, the box of cake balanced expertly in her other arm.

Izaya, on the other hand, almost tripped over his own feet into the pavement. The lack of grace was worth it. He didn’t even have any words to say, just staring at him, so doe-eyed and confused as they passed.

“Nii-san. Coming. (Are you coming brother?” Kururi called over her shoulder, slowing down a bit, but not stopping or even letting go of Shizuo’s hand. It irritated him. It frustrated him.

He was so confused.

Shizuo turned as well, having the nerve to look concerned.

“Would you prefer I left?”

_ ‘Yes. Just go away so I can keep watching from afar. You’re too close, I can’t see what is happening. Just go home!’ _

“No… It’s fine.”

* * *

 

The house was large, a grand multi-story structure and a front porch with a western-esque feel to the design, not too much to particularly stand out but, much like the inhabitants, enough to make you pull a double take and certainly enough to make it unforgettable. Mairu pulled out a house key from her sock to open the front door, throwing it wide open before running in.

“Welcome to our home!” she shouted from somewhere inside. It wasn’t a formal welcome, Shizuo could hardly consider it an invitation, but he stepped in anyway. Izaya’s uncomfortable aura motivating him to just get in. He thought the ravenette would have appreciated it, but at the same time it was a predictable response.

Or perhaps familiar was the better answer.

“Sorry for intruding,” he mumbled the automatic phrase as he heard the door close behind him, taking off his shoes as Kururi did the same and disappeared.

“If you need to use the phone, feel free,” Izaya spoke coldly, distantly as he didn’t even point out the corded phone mounted on the wall.

“Thanks.”  There was a strange smell to the home, like cleaner mixed with the smell of shampoo and soap. Izaya disappeared through an archway towards what looked to be the dining room. They had money, but no one called to a mother or father. Aside from Mairu’s constant chattering from the kitchen, there was no call from any other part of the house welcoming the children home.

* * *

 

“We asked Grandmother to buy Russia Sushi today and she dropped it off earlier. I want salmon!”

“Sashimi (I don’t want rice).”

“You’ll get sick if you only eat fish,” Izaya sighed, giving his little sister a small bowl of their home rice on the side. She gave a petulant look at the bowl, but took it anyway.

“Special (Only because it is brother’s special day).”

“Don’t say it like that,” he found himself smiling, “It sounds weird.”

Mairu was already popping open the take-away boxes, “What will Mr. blondie like?”

“Just call him Shizuo.” Izaya stood ruffling the girls’ hair as both of them fussed over the action, much to his amusement. “I’ll ask, don’t start before I get back.”

“Wha! I’m starving!”

“Hurry.”

Izaya found himself smiling, despite himself, walking back to the hall. That was where he left the blonde after all.

_ “Hello, mom? Hi, yeah. Yeah. Well, actually. No, I’m fine. No, no fights today. Yeah, me too. Actually, I’m staying over at a friend’s place tonight. It was rather sudden, so I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. … Mom?” _

Friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the beginning is actually from the Izaya spin-off series that takes place after the canon material.
> 
> Also, yes, the woman in the shop is Namie. I always figured she would have probably graduated early; at the very least she would seem more like an adult than a child. She and Izaya are actually very similar, both the products of negligent parents, but are both extremely different in how they coped with it. Namie wanted approval and love and so sought it from her little brother. As she aged, those feelings warped and turned into that incestuous obsession she now carries. Izaya, on the other hand, is very much an introvert. He doesn't actually have the personality to outwardly express his desires and his emotional needs were kept inside and never touched. Because of this, he is extremely fragile in an emotional sense and has created walls around himself to keep people at a distance. He also became a control freak, another tendency found in introverts. Meanwhile Namie is a people-pleaser (for her brother) which is an extrovert's tendency.
> 
> And No, I don't think Izaya and Seiji have the same or even similar birthdays, I saw Namie buying a cake for Seiji for passing his first exam of the year or some other tiny little accomplishment because she would be that sister.


	11. Walking in Circles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see. Ugh, I kinda wrote myself into a corner with that last chapter and I worried I ruined it so didn't want to keep writing if I already ruined it. Started this chapter and got to the last few paragraphs when I realized I totally forgot about Golden Week in the last chapter *cries forever* I'll eventually fix it... somehow. So please just ignore that for now. Please.

_ “I  _ know _ you.” _

_ The dark figure stood stark against the endless black behind his eyes; a statement that shouldn’t have made sense, but it did. The black shoes, black slacks, black knee-length coat, black hair; hood drawn up so only the fringes could be seen. For once, instead of absorbing the light, it shed it in waves, but it was all wrong. Light could not be black and it had no warmth or brightness to it. It felt heavy, ominous, foreboding; every fibre of his being screamed at him to stay away. For once, he felt powerless; frightened for himself for the first time in his life. _

“Oh, what do you know?”

_ A smile that never reached those eyes. _

_ A scowl that no one else was allowed to see. _

_ Those dull russet eyes that gazed up at him like a child realizing they lost at their favourite game. _

_ Unwilling to back down, stubbornly putting on an infuriatingly smug face _

“That’s what makes it so funny, Shizu-chan,” _ his face was completely void of emotion; not a single trace of what one would expect of a living, feeling human. That was one reason he hated him so much.  _ “But  _ why _ do you insist on knowing me?”

_ Why? _

_ The Shadow danced forward, hands buried deep into the jacket pockets and face hidden just under the hem of the fur hood, still just out of his arm’s reach.  _ “What good does it do you to remember?”

_ He stood frozen, barely registering when the Shadow passed that threshold, close enough to touch. Remember? _

“Why not just forget everything Shizuo?” _ Arms reached out to him slowly, like approaching a wild animal. He flinched from reflex, a little too late as those cold hands pressed against his face, a strange sensation for a dream.  _ “Please… Just forget about that time. I don’t know why you remember, but let’s just forget.”

_ There was no face under the hood. _

_ “Who are you?” _

“...”

_ He opened his mouth to speak, irritated at the lack of response, only to be pulled, suddenly, into an embrace. There was no warmth in the body as it pressed his face into its shoulder.  The body wasn’t fragile, the grip around him strong, earnest, pleading.  _ “I’m sorry my friend. Please. Just forget that time.”

_ “You aren’t Izaya.” _

“No.”

_ “Then-.” _

_ The body vanished instantly and throwing him off balance, he was suddenly falling, the solid darkness opening up to a bottomless drop. _

* * *

 

Shizuo startled awake against the hard, unused mattress. The blanket had shimmied its way up his body, exposing his feet; one of the ankle socks hanging on by just his toes. The house smelt of cleaner and detergent, the room itself was a little stale from not being aired out and so unused. It wouldn’t have made sense to open the window just yet, the nights still a little too cold this early in the month.

Somewhere, outside the closed door, there was the insistent pleading of a phone, a quick glance to the angry red numbers of the electric clock on the bedside table told him it was far too early to be awake. Yesterday was slowly coming back; he had stayed over at Izaya’s house for dinner and those two little girls asked him to stay the night. Oh yes, that awkward conversation with his mother when he told her he was staying over. She had gone eerily quiet before asking if it was Shio’s house, which left him with a surprisingly empty feeling just above his stomach. He didn’t want to tell her about that.

Why did she have to sound so surprised?

He knew why, really. Shizuo… didn’t make friends. In middle school, he never went out of his way to really meet up with Tom-san, so the idea of going out or staying over was just as foreign to him. But sometimes she couldn’t help herself, he knew. She did her best, dealing with something like him, who was he to fault her little slip ups now and then.

That phone was still ringing.

Groaning, still feeling wobbly from the dream, he pushed himself upright, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. The floor was warm, so the heater was on, probably all night. “What irresponsible kids,” he grumbled to himself, his father would have lost his mind. He was dressed in some sweats and a plain t-shirt Izaya had pulled out from somewhere; they fit a little snug, but he hadn’t brought his own change of clothes. He had only intended to watch Izaya a little longer.

The hallway was dark, as was the second story from what he could see at the bottom, but the living area lights were on, the phone ringing from the front hall by the door.  _ ‘Someone’s up and just ignoring it?’ _ He cautiously stepped out, the house warmer than even his room, he was starting to suspect someone was sensitive to the cold. It was funny, the house felt entirely foreign. Izaya, the girls; they were familiar if unknown, but the house was something entirely new.

“Oh, you’re up.” A voice from behind him startled Shizuo, whipping around out of instinct, but he didn’t exactly relax when he saw the ravenette behind him. He wore shorts under an over-sized grey hoodie and black socks that reached his knees. “Sorry about the phone. They’ll give up when the remember the time difference.” Just as he said the words in such a detached and off-handed tone, the phone stopped mid-ring, leaving the large house too-quiet.

“... Who was that?”

“My parents,” Izaya sighed, squeezing past Shizuo, his eyes always just avoiding the taller boy’s face, “Or at least I  _ believe _ my parents, since I didn’t answer the phone. But it isn’t that much of a big deal. Probably wanted to say a happy birthday once they remembered.”

“You were up, why didn’t you answer?”

Izaya smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s more to my benefit if I don’t. They try to make up for it with money, gifts. Something more useful than some well wishes and the like. If they believe I just missed the call because of the time, they can pretend they planned to send me a gift in the first place.”

That was so like him, it ticked all the right boxes and it stirred irritation in his stomach. He could recognize this Izaya, except he couldn’t. The Izaya who would have also said such things wouldn’t have so easily turned his back on the blonde. “So you’d even exploit your own parents’ feelings to your own benefit?”

“And haven’t you? Can you honestly swear that at no point in your life you exploited your parents’ feelings to benefit yourself?”

Shizuo frowned at the retreating back before following a little reluctantly. He had, really. All the fights he was in, public property damages, the hospital stays,  _ the fridge _ .

“It’s okay if you can’t Heiwajima-kun,” he called back unexpectedly, rounding the corner into a rather large kitchen. The blonde would have mentioned how the entire first floor was illuminating the street, but decided that if Izaya’s family could afford the house in the first place, they probably didn’t have to worry much about such thing as utility bills. “Everyone does it and has done it, even your own parents did it to their parents. It would be unreasonable for them to expect any different from you.”

“So you justify being a shitty person by arguing everyone’s a shitty person?”

Izaya laughed, it still didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hardly. I would still be who I am, even if the rest of the world was made up of perfect angels; because I’m not an angel Heiwajima-kun, nor am I the devil, I’m merely human.”

Shizuo stared down at the skinny, pale legs, contemplating what the other said, unsure if he could agree or disagree or even bother to understand enough to debate an answer. Instead, he determined it was too early to philosophize humanity and changed the subject. “Why are  _ you _ awake? If the phone woke you up, wouldn’t it have bothered your sisters?”

“I wish, Kururi wakes up at seven every morning like clockwork, Mairu would sleep through a fire, I swear,” Izaya grumbled, his whole demeanor changing when he talked about his sisters. That detached and arrogant persona falling away to be replaced with actual emotion. Even if it came out at irritation, to Shizuo it came off even a little endearing. “I’m a light sleeper, but the phone didn’t start ringing until a little before you came out of the room. I decided since my _very considerate_ little sisters invited you over on a whim, you’d need your clothes cleaned.”  
Oh.

“Uh… thanks.”

Izaya finally turned to him, mirth dancing behind those dark irises, “You didn’t even think of that, did you? I bet right now you just thought you would have wore your dirty clothes again and that it wouldn’t matter, right?”

He wasn’t wrong, but the way he said it came off mocking, like he saw Shizuo as such a simpleton that he could recite his thoughts without a hint of doubt. “Shut up.”

The ravenette laughed, it touched his eyes. “Heiwajima-kun is too simple, really! What sort of host would  _ I _ be if I didn’t take responsibility?”

“I guess a shitty one.”

He wasn’t as mad as he should have been, the for once genuine; like a child winning a game, he was just so proud of himself.

“Do you like waffles?”

“What?”

“Waffles. I don’t really feel like cooking this morning.” Izaya spoke from inside a bottom cupboard, fishing out a waffle-maker and setting it up on the counter by a toaster before grabbing a mixing bowl and several ingredients. Shizuo watched dumbly, it sure seemed like a lot of work to avoid cooking. “You can just shower upstairs since the guest bathroom isn’t stocked. We don’t usually have visitors. It’s the third door on the left, I’ll leave your clothes outside the door.”

Shizuo stared at the other boy, both suspicious and confused. He was the one who kept pushing Shizuo back with an invisible wall. No matter how he approached Izaya, he kept himself safe inside that bubble; and yet he was surprisingly … considerate? Not really the right word, but he gave off a strange air. He did the laundry, cooked, took care of his sisters, he had even done the dishes last night after dinner. Still, he didn’t act quite like a parent would, he didn’t seem reliable if how his sisters teased and bullied him was anything to go by. Usually the oldest child would be more like an adult in this sort of situation.

The blonde finally gave in, not wanting to think much more, his head starting to hurt from all the lack of understanding these observations gave him. Instead he did as he had been told, ascending the staircase and following Izaya’s instructions. The bathroom was large, too large in Shizuo’s opinion. A family bathroom had no right to be so large and elaborate, it irritated him.

“Thanks … for present. (Thank you for your present.)” A little voice spoke from behind him, startling Shizuo as he had his shirt halfway over his head. Standing awkwardly in the bathroom, torso exposed, the melancholy sister peeked her head through the door.

“Uhh.. you’re welcome?” he asked, not quite sure what the girl was saying. He hadn’t brought anything.

“Niisan… lonely… Personality. (Brother doesn’t have any friends because of his bad personality.)”

Shizuo scoffed, amused the elementary student was astute enough to call out her brother’s lack of companionship and why. A part of him wondered how he could actually understand such broken up sentences. “Perhaps he should wish for a better one next year.”

Her lips upturned in a tiny little smile that reminded Shizuo of her older brother. “Yes. … Bye. (Indeed. I’ll leave now.)” She didn’t wait for a reply, withdrawing her head and closing the door behind her.

“They’re all weird,” he grumbled to himself, locking the door this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm really sorry I haven't been writing. I really thought I ruined this story, and hopefully with this chapter we can go forward. This was really tense and stressful at first, but I hope you like it. This chapter in particular was inspired heavily by the song The Crow & The Butterfly by Shinedown.


End file.
